Baby Vamp, the Bearcat and a Choice Bit of Calico
by ohfrick
Summary: RoxieVelma femslash. Lena, a former starlet's daughter, comes to work at the theater where the infamous duo performs and gets more than she bargains for. A fic I started in March 2003.
1. Default Chapter

Roxie/Velma slash, Lena/Roxie slash. Lena is an original character I have created, and the story is told by both Velma and Lena. I've researched this story pretty thoroughly, so everything should be anachronistically correct.

The title comes from jazz slang popular in the 1920s. A baby vamp being an attractive girl, the bearcat a fierce woman and the choice bit of calico a desirable woman.

**The Baby Vamp, the Bearcat, and a Choice Bit of Calico.**

**Chapter One: Small Town Girl, Big City Lights (Lena) **

Marlene Dietrich, Greta Garbo, and Lena Bratton.

The latter name will never be seen on a marquee, but for much of my life I've been pushed to have my name in lights, to be billed with the big guns, the girls of the silver screen.

This has never been my dream, but rather, my mother's, an ill-forgotten stage actress frustrated with her lack of success and damage left as time goes by. Once a beautiful starlet, she is now a shadow of her former self.

But I shun the spotlight. I'm too shy and I suffer from terrible stage fright. I want to be a writer; I want to take beauty and capture it on paper, not be a beauty on a screen.

I hail from Astoria, Illinois. My father's deceased from illness over fifteen years ago and my mother has, thinking she's performing a good deed, sent me to the Royal Garden, a nightclub, to become a stagehand. Her philosophy is that by working behind the scenes, I learn to appreciate the art of entertainment first hand. She doesn't understand that I can't spend my twenties, the best years of my life chasing idle dreams.

But I've never been one to stand up to Mother. I've come from a town of relatively quiet means to Chicago: home of debauchery, sin, and bootlegged liquor. And for what? To fall in love with a dashing actor and dominate the stage as Lena Bratton: Queen of Vaudeville?

I've never been in love though. I had one boyfriend, Thomas Duncan, who wrote plays for the local theater but we soon drifted apart, once mother started living vicariously through me. Thomas eventually met a girl named Chelesa Rochester and began a family with her. And I came here.

So now I stand alone in Chicago where her dreams will like candles, flicker and die. 


	2. We're Going to Shimmy Shake Velma

The title comes from jazz slang popular in the 1920s. A baby vamp being an attractive girl, the bearcat a fierce woman, the choice bit of calico a desirable woman, and a sheba is a girlfriend.

**The Baby Vamp, the Bearcat, and a Choice Bit of Calico**

**Chapter Two: We're Going to Shimmy Shake (Velma) **

After all this lollygagging around at two-bit clubs, we finally got into a place worthy of the talent that is Roxie and I.

But is Roxie appreciating the place? No. We're standing in front of The Royal Garden. The Royal Garden - one of the prime stops on the circuit, and she's looking over the dresses we'll wear. The owners have us booked for seven nights. Seven nights of everyone's favorite jazzkillers: Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly.

Chicago must be casting kittens to have two acts like us headlining.

And while I'm admiring the joint, my sheba over there's fawning over our new costumes. I got to hand it to her, though, they are appealing. Really the ritz. Roxie came through this time. She comes up with the ideas, the hooks. I work out the routine, the tricks, that get that audience going. We're a good team. 

"Hey, Velma, we did it! We really did it, and geez, Jesus Mary Joseph, aren't these rags just glam? And look at this place!" Roxie's pulling me towards the door, so excited I think she's going to soak her panties.

Now that's more like it. 


	3. Sap That I Am Lena

The title comes from jazz slang popular in the 1920s. A baby vamp being an attractive girl, the bearcat a fierce woman, the choice bit of calico a desirable woman, and a sheba is a girlfriend. Goof is a bumbling idiot.

Author's note: Now we've had a bit of introduction, the chapters start getting longer.

**The Baby Vamp, the Bearcat, and a Choice Bit of Calico**

**Chapter Three: Sap That I Am (Lena) **

There is no method to Mother's madness.

But of course, there never is. This sap falls for the lines everytime. But I know her attempts to make me a better person, a celebrity, are only misguided efforts to focus the spotlight back on herself. She'll be able to say "Oh yes, my daughter is a star, as once was I" and then she can show everyone her remmants from her former life.

Yet, I never can question her motives directly to her face. That being one of the reasons why I am here, and the other is that she fed me lines about the grandness of it constantly for nearly two months. I eventually gave in and now I regret it.

I feel as if I may suffocate on the climate of Chicago and its only been twenty minutes that I've been in my room on the top floor. The stench of cigarettes has permeated my squalid hotel room, other patrons of the hotel have spilled liquor all over the interior and I hear jazz wafting through from at all hours of the night; serves me right to get a room next door to The Royal Garden. And yet I'm attributing to the odor by smoking.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of my new job, and as I sit here watching the passersbys below, I can't help but wonder why I'm here. I'll be working over the period of two weeks assisting in whatever menial task they can give me. I just can't thank my mother enough, but I'll be sure to when I get home. She can count on it. That is, if I can work up the nerve. What am I saying, of course I won't thank her. I'll lay a line on her about how it was so great, and enriching.

The first acts of the Garden this week are Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly. The lady jazz sensations themselves. Seven nights of those former murderesses whose names were in all the papers. First Velma, then Roxie, now the two of them. They're quite the thing here in Chicago. There's posters all over the hotel advertising the show and everywhere you turn, people are sporting the Roxie or Velma look. There's even a Roxie doll in the toy store across the street.

It's been my experience that few people in showbusiness are nice. I attribute this to the fact that during my childhood, and back when my mother was the 'it girl', celebrities from all over paraded into our house. I was made to perform little skits for them, while the hostess embelished my shyness to "coyness".

Perhaps Roxie and Velma will be different. I must admit, I'm looking forward to seeing their act. I've heard they put on quite a show. Perhaps I can take the bellboy who's been trying to get my attention since I've arrived. He keeps offering me dinner, booze, cigarettes. I turn him down constantly. The boy doesn't seem capable of constructing sentences that don't involve the word "me" and "I".

He's somewhat thick-headed and if I can't carry an intelligent conversation with someone, like I could with Thomas, then they are useless to me. As for Roxie and Velma, from what I've gleaned from eavesdropping on other stagehands who reside in the hotel, the two girls are more than show partners. I haven't a clue why someone would say that, I've certainly never been shown any clues.

I think I'd rather see them perform alone than with a goof. 


	4. Woman with a Beef Velma

**The Baby Vamp, the Bearcat, and a Choice Bit of Calico**

**Chapter Four: Woman with a Beef (Velma) **

The place is really swanky and everything we want is ours, because, Willy, the manager, is footing the bills. He's even promised us a sort of servant for the week, someone to do our bidding. A Jane could get used to that. Roxie's too concerned with the business of the show and necking to really focus, but I've got a list of demands made up for our girl. Her name's Lena, apparently. I could care less about her name, and more about the quality of her fetching skills.

Roxie and I have a real grand show planned out for tonight, and I have got needs that must be fulfilled. Lena will be busy for hours. And I'm sure Roxie can fulfill some of my desires herself. Sure hope Lena isn't another starstruck one, like Roxie used to be. It was hard enough trying to tame Hart, let alone put up with another one bewitched by the razzle-dazzle.

I'm going to need a completely new warddrobe for rehearsal if Roxie doesn't quit pawing at this one. It'll be paper thin by the time she's done. I push her off of me, and she's looking at me dejected. "Oh, whatcha do that for, Velma?" she whines.

"Sorry Rox. Girl's gotta play," I reply, as I wag my finger at her and she follows me out to the stage, just like the lovesick pup she is.

And what a swell stage it is. That dump, the Onyx, is nothing compared to this. Ten times the spotlights and our troupe of dancers is lined up, waiting for our approval. Roxie looks each one up and down carefully. We have to make sure none of them are too pretty, that they're all skinny enough, and of course, if they can get hot for the crowd.

"They'll do," Roxie calls across the room, as I'm making one girl repeat her routine. I nod as I spot Willy standing by the door.

"Hey. Where's the girl you promised us?" I demand. He's smoking a cigar and looking at me as if I'm on fire. Keep your eyes off, I'm not for the taking, I'm muttering underneath my breath.

"Don't worry, Velma. Lena starts tonight. She'll be there for your every beckon and call. You're a nice piece, I'd give you anything you want, trust me," he responds. He walks off, leaving me and Roxie to whip our dancers into shape. I bristle from his snide remarks then return to the girl from before.

I can tell she's irritated with me, as Roxie repeats the combination again. "No, it's step, step, STEP" she hisses. The girl sighs, throwing her hands into the air. The other dancers look away, but I go directly up to her. My eyes meet hers and I can hear that she's a bit hesitant in her breathing.

"What's your name kid?" I ask the dancer, whose ribs show through her clothing. She's so tiny and fragile, she looks no more than twelve. "You're not that agile, are you?"

"Mary," she breathes. "And no, I'm not." Easily intimidated this one is. She ought to be some fun, if I play my cards right.

"What's a pretty young thing you like you doing away from the schoolhouse, dearie?" I ask, cupping her chin in my hands. She shakes my grasp away, tossing her hair defiantly. "You're a little tomato, aren't you?"

Roxie's staring at me with a look of confusion, but I shrug it off. She should be used to my actions by now. Didn't I treat her the same way when she was a little girl in the shadows? Mary folds her arms over her chest and hangs her head. "I'm sorry. I'll try it again," she whispers. I slap her on the face lightly in reply.

"Yes, you better," I suggest, but I soften my voice. "You're a good girl." I turn back to Roxie, but then think twice, looking at Mary again. "But you better get the damn steps right! Just a little advice. You know, between us girls," I growl.

"C'mon, kid. Let's blow this place." Roxie nods and we walk off towards the dressing room. Behind me I can hear another dancer whining about my reaction.

"Bitch," she says in a high octave. I ignore her and drag Roxie into the dressing room, slamming the door behind us. Once in there, she gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and wraps her hands around my neck.

"You're a wicked one, Velma Hart," she says demurely and I start teasing my hand along her thigh. "Wicked but wonderful," she adds. 


	5. The Girl Who Had an Earful Lena

**The Baby Vamp, the Bearcat, and a Choice Bit of Calico**

**Chapter Five: The Girl Who Had an Earful (Lena) **

To my dismay, I fear it's true what I heard about Roxie and Velma. Velma Kelly is a bearcat, and Roxie is always within Velma's control.

I've always been one to believe in the inherent good of all people, but apparently, she is just a bitch. One of the dancers has me to led their dressing room where I'm to become their aid for the week and has been recounting the conversation between Mary and Velma. Willy never told my mother he was passing me off as a servant girl to the latest act passing through.

I doubt Mother would approve of it, but I'm not really that concerned. I stay on their good side, I fetch a couple cups of water, cigarettes, a few magazines for awhile. It's easy money. I thank the dancer, and rap on the door twice, then enter when there's no answer.

"Shit!" a voice cries, as I'm standing there. Roxie has her hand on Velma's exposed breasts, and she's got a look of pleasure on her face. But Velma's eyes are wide with surprise. The rumors were true ; I'm astonished to say the least, but I find my voice regardless.

"Hello, you must be Velma Kelly and Roxie Hart. I'm Lena Bratton, the stagehand Willy sent. Pleased to meet you," I greet them cordially, holding out my hand for them to shake. I think twice about extending my hand, considering where it's been and draw it back. But Roxie only looks over idly while Velma reaches into her pocket pulling a tight roll of paper out.

"Oh, darling. It's alphabetical. Roxie and Velma," Roxie replies, taking the paper from Velma. "Here's a little list of things that just have to be done. Be a dear," she says, handing the roll to me. I accept it gingerly.

"C'mon, Vel, I don't think she really cares about us," Roxie comments to Velma, who's by now arranged her dress around herself once again. Velma shoots a look at me and I cringe a little. She seems so cold and calculating. I can't understand why Roxie, who seems decent, would want to be around her. Roxie strokes Velma's hair delicately, and just stares at me.

Velma recoils away from her. "Christ! You're worse than a dog begging for a bone. Always hungry." Roxie stops stroking abruptly and storms to the other side of the dressing room, tossing herself on the nearest chair. Velma turns to me.

"Enjoyed the show? You didn't really see anything worth mentioning to others, did you," she asks in a condescending tone, as if speaking to a child who just viewed a carnival. I shake my head vigorously. "Good. Now run along, you have your little list."

I leave, closing the door behind me. Unrolling the papers, I'm dismayed at the contents. These are extremely tiresome tasks that should and could be accomplished by their own able selves.

Three glasses of water per person per show, two bottles of asprin, two bouquets of fresh roses, two copies of _McClure's_ magazine, two pairs of white gloves, two plates of fresh steak, two new victrola records every night. Notes to clarify how bright the spotlights must be, how they must be introduced, etc. Five pages of work that will take me hours to complete.

"Hey, girl!" I hear a voice behind me call, as I walk down towards the stage. I turn and Velma's running towards me. "Girl. I have another task I need you to do. Go to the jeweler for me, tell them I want a silver chain with a heart shaped disk reading 'Velma' on it. And make it quick, I need it soon."

"My name's Lena," I reply, adding the new chore to the list. Velma coughs suddenly, then looks up me and down.

"Oh? That's nice. Lena Bratton, you said? Your mother isn't Vivica Bratton, is she?" she asks. I nod. "Darb actress. Saw her once in _Uninvited Pleasures_. You going to be a starlet?"

She's being pleasant towards me, maybe she isn't that bad.

"No, I'm a writer," I tell her, smiling as if she's a friend. Velma doesn't return the nice gesture.

"Oh, I look forward to reading your writing. On that list. As you check off what you've done. Okay, enough with beating your gums. Scram!" she hisses, as she walks away.

I sigh and light a cigarette. Suddenly I feel as the day has taken on so many hours. 


	6. Adorning the Doll

**The Baby Vamp, the Bearcat, and a Choice Bit of Calico**

**Chapter Six: Adorning the Doll (Velma) **

Lena's kinda meek but I know I can break her down. We'll see. She does a fair job. Everything we've asked for is around us, so I can say this: She ain't bad.

She could be better, though. I never settle for second-best.

But right now, I have other things on my mind. The show's about to begin, and Roxie's causing us to run late, again. Two weeks ago, when we were playing at the Onyx, our act was forty-five minutes late because she got a run in her stockings. Sometimes she's a finicky bird, but we're a good thing, so I put up with it, most of the time.

"Velma, this is such the bees knees! Finally, we're in a real joint, with our name in lights and everything," Roxie's chirping, as she puts on her earrings. I listen to her, not paying attention as I finger the jeweler's box on our dressing room table, but Roxie's too enamored with her own image to notice me. What's inside is a surprise, anyways.

The jeweler finished the order quick. I guess Lena mentioned my name. It's nice to know it means something to someone.

"Roxie, come here. I got something for you. A little token of my affection..and to celebrate this new success, I suppose," I say, catching her eye in the mirror and she turns to face me. The silver heart lies on a silky satin bed, and I remove it, twirling it between my fingers.

"Oh, Velma," Roxie breathes, much like she did the first night we were together. "Amos never really gave me any jewelry. Sure, a pair of earrings on our anniversary, but I never even got a proper wedding ring. I had to wear his mother's and she was a large broad." She goes off into a tangent, until I clap my hand over her mouth briefly.

"Those are nice sentiments, doll," I tell her, biting her ear gently. "But why don't you put it on?" Roxie flashes a smile that rivals the lights we dance under and grabs the necklace. Clasping it behind her neck, she arranges it flat between her breasts.

"Now, don't ever say I don't go on treating you nice," I laugh. 'You're mine."

I reach over and tuck it underneath her top, then sling my arms low about her waist, stopping briefly to pinch her thighs before we take the stage. Roxie squeals and smacks my hand away while I smirk. The house is packed, but the only thought in my head is Roxie.

All thoroughout the show, I ignore the two bit johnnys hollering for us to get hot, and glance only at Roxie. At the slenderness of her throat, the gleam of her eyes as we perform, and the smug smile she gives me on stage. Lena stares at us curiously but I stop her from speaking by grabbing her arm as we walk by. Roxie and I recline in the dressing room.

From the sounds of our dressing room, it's as if there's a crowd. But there's only Roxie and me. And it's time for an encore.


End file.
